


Bast

by Lady_Anthea



Series: Abecedarium [2]
Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Distrust, First Impressions, First Meetings, Gen, pilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Anthea/pseuds/Lady_Anthea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the minute she crosses the door, Max knows something is amiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bast

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Pilot. No tags to After.

Bast:  _proper_   _n_. Feline goddess of ancient Egyptian religion who was worshipped at least since the Second Dynasty. A wild goddess, to those who were in her favor, she gave great blessings, but her wrath was legendary and she was sometimes listed as one of Ra's avenging deities who punish the sinful and the enemies of Egypt.

From the minute she crosses the door, Max knows something is amiss.

"Kendra, you home?" She asks into the darkness, more out of a habit than of a real curiosity. In the five months since her friend moved in, Max has grown used to the blonde's nocturnal habits. It's Wednesday and, if Kendra were there, she'd be probably screaming God's name because of her most recent, picked up from Crash lover. Whether she's still in the bar or having sex somewhere else, however, it's not of her business, and her roommate's absence has never worried her before. It's a fact Kendra's a big girl and she can take care of herself.

It's not the little moonlight that looms across the window, though she'd like much more if it disappeared. She's familiar with Seattle's cloudy days–and nights. The darkness that comes after twilight always offers her protection; it's her shelter, her solace, which is why night it's more reassuring to her than any other time of the day.

It's nor her Ninja, resting in the improvised living room, her most treasured possession, her partner in crime and company in her biggest adventures.  _Or maybe it is_ , she thinks briefly, noticing that, for the first time in those five months, Kendra's underwear isn't adorning the motorcycle.

A quick gaze around the room and the poorly equipped kitchen reveals nothing more, and she decides the problem it's the day before yesterday.  _And yesterday, too._   _Exposure is never a good thing_ , Max reminds herself.  _It always ends up with Lydecker on your tail. That's how you arrived to this city, in the first place._  She mentally adds a red flag next to Logan Cale's name–better to his alias,  _Eyes Only_ , because the man can't be stupid enough to give his real name. Eyes Only shouldn't be aware of the places she likes to hang around. Eyes Only shouldn't be so curious about her motives. Eyes Only should've shot her, providing her of a reason to despise him and try to eliminate him.  _Because it's not like you haven't thought so since you saw him at Crash, walking toward you like he owned the place._

Yet somehow, the statement that lingers in her head is that Eyes Only's mere presence shouldn't make her forget she is wearing her jacket.

Her feet take her to her room, silence following closely. Muscles complain about their constant use, and Max surrenders into the inviting solitude of her bed. She lays down, only for a minute, she still has to pay a visit to Vogelsang.

Sleep drifts into her, slowly, tempting, but as the figure over the dresser registers in her brain, her plans are violently thrown off the window.  _Just like I did the night before yesterday_.

It's Bast, Chitarus' excellent sculpture greeting her in all her egyptian glory. Max holds her as if scared, because that's what she is now.

_You know who I am, where I live. I figured I'd better find out who I'm dealing with in case you were looking to hurt me._

Ah, those words, yesterday were his, now are fully hers.

She'll stop by, that's a fact and she slids her body into her catsuit. A chill runs down her back. If Max is walking into a trap, she won't know until she's there. In the meanwhile, she'll rely on her training, on her strength. "But the statue stays here," she mumbles to herself as she places the goddess back to the spot where she found her.  _Bastard just lost the best part of his collection_.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of using Max's description of Bast in Pilot, but a little research brought up a more interesting concept for the goddess. Kind of suits her, but that would make Logan Ra... not that I mind him being an egyptian god.


End file.
